A Night in the Shadowfell
by Aetherschreiber
Summary: Phina Tosspot, halfling cleric of Tymora, has had a rough day, what with being dragged through a portal by a giant, tentacled monster into the Shadowfell. As she muses on the actions of her adventuring friends on her behalf, an old soul comes to give her some advice.


**NOTES**

So, yeah, this isn't really much in the way of anything. Just a little scene that popped into my head between sessions of my D&D group. My character had some stuff happen and she's trying to work through it. Low and behold, my character from an old campaign popped in to help. So, this is that. Lightstone wasn't her name, then, but I've had a head-canon since that campaign ended of how she ended up for quite some time.

With thanks to my GM FortuitousBob and the rest of the players from Lost Tales of Faerun.

And if you want to see what we get up to, checkout FortuitousBob or Aetherschreiber on the Tweets!

* * *

Goddess, she hated this place!

Phina sat on a small log that had partially been hollowed out by rot, staring at the tiny cook fire that had been left by their hosts to fade to a smolder. She was thankful for its low light in comparison to the rest of the camp. It would be harder for the others to notice that she wasn't partaking in the merriment that the planar migrants seemed determined to eke out in this horrid landscape that seemed to have had all the color sucked right out of it.

Normally, she would have been the first of the group to get up and join in the dancing, singing, and drinking. But the Shadowfell seemed to have sapped any merriment she might have felt right out of her along with all color. The rest of the Vanguard all seemed to be making the best of it, as if it was just the most recent leg of their frankly unbelievable adventures. Bim was off running around with a group of small children, alternately playing mages and monsters and letting them use him as a jungle gym. Aela was deep in conversation with a robed fellow, both of them making frequent gestures to their surroundings as if referencing it. Burleybeard was deep in a tankard, having some sort of a drinking contest with another Dwarf. Chuck was laughing heartily with the ones who had brought them to this camp. She had lost track of Arlvin and Bannon, though. Something about the way they both just seemed to quash their uniqueness when around strangers just did that.

They shouldn't even be here. It was her fault they were here at all. She was the one who had gotten too close to that... whatever the fuck it was that wrapped her up in a tentacle and dragged her through the portal. And those idiots had heedlessly jumped right through after her, uncaring of where the portal went or if they could get back again.

I mean, she figured Bim would. He was her brother; kin, blood. More than that, even, he was her twin. The two of them shared almost every moment of their lives together. Being separated was just... not an option. It was unspoken between them, that where one went, the other did as well. It was just how it was.

But Chuck had been right on his heels. And that just didn't... make sense. It was like he had assumed a bond just as deep or nearing it anyway. They had only known each other for about six months, so it just couldn't compare. But he had done it anyway, despite having... so much to do.

Goddess, so much on his shoulders! He didn't even know the half of it, she was relatively certain. Sune's Skivvies! The guy had died 400 years ago. He was only here at all because Torm had decided to send him back to the world of the living to complete some task. And, oh, he had been left to figure out that task without much in the way of hints from his god, too.

A Revanant, he had said. That was the term he used, for what he was. Alive by the grace of a god to complete one last task and then... he would simply... stop.

Phina knew it was the divine will of the God of Justice and she knew of Chuck's complete faith that it was right and proper. But it still made her a little sick thinking about it. If stopping the leak of the Shadowfell into Fallshire and destroying this... World Key thing was part of his task, succeeding just put one of Chuck's feet in the grave. Even if they won this fight - and she was sure that a fight it would be - Chuck would still lose.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair at all!

Without even noticing it, she found the large cold coin that was her holy symbol of Tymora nimbly rolling back and forth over the knuckles of her fingers. She stopped and stared at it, letting the dimming firelight shine off its surface for a moment. It rocked back and forth on the pivot point of her middle finger. All sides equal. That was best way for things. No one should have impossible odds stacked against them. It wasn't the will of Tymora for good people to be so cursed with misfortune. The Goddess was meant to bestow her blessing or not. Luck was meant to be a blessing, not... the only hope.

"Mind if I join you?"

The voice startled Phina out of her reveries and she jumped, nearly dropping the coin. She scrambled to hold on to it, though, and then spun around to see who had addressed her.

There was an Elf woman standing just on the dim edge of the firelight behind her. She was dressed in green and brown leathers, blond hair tied back into a series of braids at the back of her head. Phina could just make out the flash of silver strands threaded through it. She moved to sit on the log next to Phina, her footfalls almost making no sound at all, even though her fit frame looked sturdy enough to lift the log with a single hand.

"You're one of the Valorous Vanguard, right?" the Elf asked. "The ones they brought in earlier?"

Phina gave a nod, collecting her wits about her. "Yeah, sorry. Phina Tosspot, at your service!"

"Yes, I met your brother earlier," the Elf said, "he mentioned that he hadn't seen you for a bit and seemed a little concerned."

"Yeah, he does that," Phina said, "he takes being all of seven minutes older than me soooo seriously."

The Elf gave a warm laugh, smiling fondly. "I never had any siblings," she said, "just cousins who decided that someone should do the job. And some good friends, too. Your group reminds me of them." She sounded wistful as her eyes joined Phina's gaze into the low fire. There was a pause as she seemed to contemplate it and a slight sparkle off the crystal she wore on a leather tong around her neck caught Phina's eye.

Uncomfortably, Phina cleared her throat, gently calling the Elf's attention back. "Sorry, I didn't catch you name...?"

"Oh of course," said the Elf, "where are my manners? They call me Lightstone."

"So, where are you from?" Phina asked. "I mean, not that it's any of my business or anything, just curious. I probably won't even know the place."

The Elf seemed ready to make a knee-jerk answer, one she had given a thousand times and more. But she stopped herself and appeared to reconsider, as if weighing some risk against some benefit.

"Silverleaf, on the edge of the Kryptgarden Forest, south-east of Waterdeep, on the continent of Faerun and the plane called Toril," she said at last, drawing each word out with nostalgic purpose, "that was where I used to call home. And before that, an ancient city called Myth Caraval in Deepingdale."

"You're from Faerun!" Phina exclaimed. "I think I remember hearing of a town called Silverleaf, but I've never heard of Myth Caraval."

Lightstone gave a gentle chuckle in the back of her throat. "That's hardly surprising. It was destroyed almost 200 years ago. And before that, it was hidden fairly well. Not many knew it was there and we liked it that way."

"200 years!" Phina gasped. "Then you would have been around for... so many things! The Sundering, the Spell Plague, maybe even the Time of Troubles!"

"All of them, yes," Lightstone affirmed.

"Wow. To get to live so long!" Absently, Phina turned he gaze back to the fire in front of them. "What I would do with time like that..."

"Would it surprise you to learn that there are times I envy the N'Tell'Quess their shorter lives?" Lightstone asked. "How brief they burn, but how bright their flame."

"Some briefer than others," Phina muttered under her breath, bitterly.

"Yes," Lightstone agreed, though it was a surprise to Phina that she had caught the words. "But all of that is ancient history, for all you're concerned, I suppose. I'm curious. Your friends all seem to have joined in the festivities. When our company goes through the Shadowfell, we find it's usually best not to sit in the dark, thinking too much. It leads to bad dreams."

"This whole place is a bad dream," Phina muttered.

"And what better way than to fend that off than with light and laughter and the company of family?"

"Ah, I see Bim all the time," Phina said with a wave.

"That's... not who I meant," Lightstone replied, "well, not _all_ who I meant, anyway. This Vanguard of yours. You all seem to be comfortable with each other."

"Sure, we're tight, I guess," said Phina, "but family...? Chuck used that word, too. And the others all seemed to go right along with it."

"So what's your hangup, then?" Lightstone asked.

"I don't have a hangup, exactly," Phina replied, "I just... don't really... get it, you know? Back home, family is mostly just the people you happen to be related to. Don't get me wrong, I love my family and I miss them, but... well... other than Bim..."

"They don't really get you?"

"Exactly!"

"Been there, done that," said Lightstone, "got the t-tunic. My father always was always after me not to go tromping through the woods and the mud with my cousins when I was little. He thought I should be locked up in a room somewhere, learning magic, like a good girl."

"Oh, my mother's the same way!" Phina exclaimed. "it's always 'settle down, Phina. Learn the family trade, Phina. Don't follow a fickle Human goddess, Phina.' Boring. I can do so much more."

"The rest of the Vanguard would seem to agree with you."

"Well, except for Bim, none of them know any different of me. Hells, even Bim doesn't, really!"

"So, you would say, they don't hold you to any expectations?"

"No! Of course not!" Phina replied, fervently. "Every member of the Vanguard is free to come and go as they please. We're not bound together by writ or decree or anything."

"I was a part of a group like that once," said Lightstone, once again picking up a wistful tone, "we were adventurers, a lot like you and your friends. And they were content for me to be exactly who I was. They were maybe even proud of who I was. I do miss them."

"They're not here with you?" Phina asked.

"No," Lightstone replied, her voice dropping to a whisper momentarily before she continued, "I'm the last one of them left."

"Because your life is so much longer?" Phina asked.

"Partly," said Lightstone, "time took some of them, as was inevitable, but I wasn't the only Elf in the group."

"What happened to the others?"

"The Spell-Plague took one," Lightstone replied, "he was an enchanter. When the Weave changed, his power was turned back on his own mind and he... just burned away. Another I haven't seen since before the Sundering. I never learned what happened to him, but... I know, he's passed to Arvandor. I can feel it. And the third... well, I parted ways with him while the rest of the group was still together. He went chasing after his brother through a portal in a fit of rage. I never saw him again, but I learned years later that the two of them had wiped each other out. After that, it was just a matter of time for the others. One of them, a monk, was just a kid when I met him. He... grew old and frail right before my eyes and then he was just... gone, like so many Humans. Another was a halfling, like you. He was the first that I lost, while we were adventuring. A poor, selfish choice I made got him killed. And a druid friend I had, he kind of just faded into the wilds, like so many of their kind. But even so, he was Human, so, he's long gone. And then there was Ghan..."

"Ghan?" Phina pressed. "That's a Dwarf name, isn't it?"

Lightstone nodded. "Ghan Ironaxe," she said, "my best friend. He got me better than any of the others. There were days that I thought maybe one of the two of us was born in the wrong body. Maybe he was meant to be an Elf or I was meant to be a Dwarf. The closest thing I ever had to a brother." She grew quiet and her fond smile of remembrance faded as she looked into the fire again. "He even brought me back from the dead once, even though I had been against such things on principle. Heh. He knew what I wanted better than I did, it seems."

"An Elf, calling a Dwarf a brother!"

"I know! Crazy, isn't it?" Lightstone agreed. "But that's... what we were, when it came to it. He was the last to go, only about fifty years ago, now, I think. Sometimes, I think that he held on longer than any of the others just for my sake, so I wouldn't be alone."

"Was that why you left Faerun?" Phina asked.

"I suppose it is," Lightstone said with a sigh, "that and my son had come into his own. He was ready to take over the... well, the family business. And eager to do it, too, thank Corellon! I never would have lived with myself if I had pressed him into it. No, Faerun didn't need me any more. It was time for me to go elsewhere. And then I ended up here and got picked up by this bunch and... here we are." She gave a pause, seeming to come to some realization. "And you just got me talking about myself!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "Oh, 500 years old and still, I fall for that every time! My husband would be appalled."

"You have a husband?"

"Ah ah!" Lightstone said, waving a finger at Phina. "Back on topic. No more about me. From what you've said and what I've heard from the others, it sounds to me like you'd normally be living it up."

"Just not in the mood," Phina said with a sigh, "it's this place, I think. Gives me the willies."

"Phina, take it from someone who's been around the district a few times," Lightstone replied, "but it seems to me that there's more to it than that."

"Are all Elves this insufferable?" Phina asked with a smirk.

"Comes with the ears, I'm afraid," Lightstone replied in kind.

"No wonder Arlvin wears a hat all the time."

"That is a nice hat, I must say."

"Wanna know a secret?" Phina ventured, dropping her voice a little. "It's not real. Your hand'll pass right through the brim if you swat at it."

"That explains why it's in such impeccable shape," Lightstone laughed, "even after falling through a portal during a fight with a monster."

"To be fair, he did jump in a few minutes after," Phina replied, "you know, unlike Bim, Chuck, Bannon, and Burley who dove through headlong, Arlvin and Aela took a sec to figure out what they were dealing with."

"And then they followed you through anyway," Lightstone said, "not many people would do that for their friends. Very admirable."

"It's stupid, is what it is!" Phina exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "Except for Bim, it's not like they have a horse in the race that is Phina Tosspot! I mean, who does stuff like that?"

"Family?"

Phina rolled her eyes. "There's that word again," she said, obstinately resting an elbow on her knee and cupping her chin in her hand. "You know, where I'm from, family is just the people who happen to have been around when you were born who think that means that they can tell you what to do, like they know what's best for you. Whoever said I _wanted_ a second group of people like that?"

"Wow, even I was never _that_ jaded!" Lightstone exclaimed.

"Yeah, well, I never asked you, anyway," Phina snapped back, perhaps a little more forcefully than she had intended.

"I seem to have struck a nerve," Lightstone ventured, "my apologies. I'm really not very good at this sort of thing. I never was. But I do have some experience with families. Take my advice, Phina Tosspot, and let the Valorous Vanguard be a family to you. Not all families are the same. I've been a part of four in my lifetime; the one I was born to, the one I found in my friends, the one I built with my husband, and to some extent this rag-tag lot here. None of them were even remotely the same. The one you were born to will only inform the others if you let it."

With that, Lightstone lightly got up from the log, seeming almost to float to her feet rather than physically rise. Phina couldn't help but turn back to look at her for a moment. For just an instant, she thought she saw a glimmer of light come from a quartz pendant hanging from her neck. She hadn't noticed it before, but her eye was strangely drawn to it now. As the glimmer faded, Phina had the distinct feeling that this was the last dim glimmer of a light that had once been far brighter. This light she saw now seemed tired and weary.

"Just think on what I've said, that's all I ask," Lightstone said as she began to turn away, fading back into the darkness from whence she had appeared, "good night."

"Good... good night," Phina stuttered out, blinking away the slight trance that had seemed to come over her for a moment upon seeing the Elf's pendant.

For some reason, as she turned back to look at the dying fire, Phina couldn't help but feel a little unsettled by Lightstone's attempt to impart wisdom. There was a prickling in her skin that continued to tug at the edge of her mind for quite a while after the Elf had departed. In her hand, her holy symbol of Tymora seemed to feel warmer, somehow.

"All right, all right," she whispered to it, "I'll... take it under advisement."

She had never thought that it was possible for a large, gold coin, as blessed by a goddess it might have been, could actually feel smug.

But it did.


End file.
